


Reprieve

by botgal



Series: StarCrossed Shipping Ficlets [12]
Category: Hiveswap, Homestuck
Genre: AU The Train Doesnt Blow Up Immediately After Being Rerouted, And some sleep, F/F, F/M, Fainting, Flush Crush, Joey needs a damn break, Pale Crush, Pale-Red Vacillation, Quadrant Vacillation, Xefros protecc, Xefros takes care of Joey, and food, vacillating crushes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:35:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27816190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/botgal/pseuds/botgal
Summary: After successfully rerouting the train, the chaos of the past 24 hours finally catches up with Joey.Xefros is determined to make good on his promise of protecting her.
Relationships: Joey Claire & Xefros Tritoh, Joey Claire/Xefros Tritoh, ment Gaegrl Elwurd/Joey Claire
Series: StarCrossed Shipping Ficlets [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2030329
Comments: 11
Kudos: 104





	Reprieve

**Author's Note:**

> I'M BACK BABY!!!

Joey couldn't help but tremble as she stood on the precipice of diving back into the clown car. About to return to a world of blood and death and agony beyond anything she would've thought was possible just 24 hours ago.

A good amount of agony which she was certain her own actions had caused.

The feeling of a shoulder brushing against hers made her look up, and she realized Xefros was standing right beside her. So close she could feel the warmth of his arm against her own.

“Are you ready?” he asked, gently, comfortingly. As much as one could possibly manage in this sort of scenario.

“Yeah... I guess we can't really hold off on it for too long,” Joey sighed. Her gaze turned towards the floor, her feet still motionless against the rattling coupling floor. “I just... I don't want to...” Her throat choked up on her, and she pressed her lips together as a way to hold herself back from letting the heat building in her eyes turn into full blown tears.

As she looked down, she saw a gray hand nudge against hers, then slowly turn. Threading gray fingers between her own until she could feel the warmth of his palm flush up to her shaking hand.

“You can just... keep looking down if you want,” he tried gently. “I can lead the way there. I won't let them bother you... I mean, as much as I can.”

“...Thank you, Xefros,” she murmured. Joey managed a deep breath, then nodded. And she saw Xefros reach out and turn the knob, letting the door slide open with a rattle.

And then, they were walking.

The whole place still stank to high heaven. It smelled like if a carnival had exploded inside of a church. Burned sugar and old soda, too sweet scented candles and the vague sulfur of burnt wicks. Sweat and tears and dusty old paper and well used beanbag cushions....

And blood.

She hadn't noticed the smell the first time they entered this mobile cathedral of clownery. But she definitely knew it now.

The place was thrumming with a steady beat of horns and some kind of synth that seemed to sync up to the heartbeat, then lead it into some erratic jig of a rhythm that made the whole body feel off balance.

“Oh heya Jo. Good to see ya back.” Joey cringed, still resolutely staring at her own shoes as she heard the familiar, once so seemingly friendly voice. Not that she trusted it as far as she could throw it anymore. “How'd ya business up at the front go?”

“We were fine.” Xefros's voice piped up, set and firm. Not at all like when they'd first encountered the purplebloods. “We're headed back to the Rustblood car now. We won't be coming back up here for anything.”

“Aw shit. Well, nothin doing if you ain't got the stomach for another game. But if you get it in ya head, feel free to pop back up. A clown can always use some entertainment on a long train ride like this.”

“Yeah. We'll keep that in mind,” Xefros muttered. Then started the two walking again.

He could feel Joey press in closer to him as they passed through the middle car, but he just kept plodding resolutely ahead. Keeping his word as he kept on marching forward back to the relative safety of their origin point.

Xefros could feel his whole body tense as he saw the giant clown lady who had tossed him around like a rag doll. Eyeing her furtively as she played with the razor sharp, clown sized hatchet she had casually clenched in her giant, meaty fist. But she didn't seem to mind altogether too much. Apparently to preoccupied with swirling the different shades of blood staining the metal into whatever intricate patterns clowns seemed to like. The one time she did glance up to him, she just gave him lazy smile that sent shivers up his spine and sent him grabbing Joey and urging her along just that little bit faster.

The only other clowns of note in the car were the smaller ones. The stripey horned one named Karako, and the surviving twin of the masked duo, Barzum. The latter of whom was curled up listlessly on a large, glitter drenched cushion, while the latter sat there holding a half empty bottle of Faygo in an offeratory posture.

Xefros quietly encouraged Joey to follow him along just a bit faster past the two of them.

By the time they were up the elevator and out of the door, Joey was half slouched against his arm, and he could hear her take a big sigh of what he assumed to be relief when the door closed behind them. Shutting out the stench and sounds of clowns, leaving them in a gentle quiet with the salt tinged wind brushing past them.

“See? It's okay, Joey. The clowns didn't bother us too much,” Xefros tried quietly.

“Yeah... you were right. Thanks for dealing with them, Xefros,” Joey murmured. “I don't think I could've handled dealing with any of them... Not after all that.”

“It's okay. I said I'd protect you, and I meant it,” Xefros managed a smile. “Let's get back to the Rustblood car. Maybe we can find a nice patch of floor to rest on for a bit until the train gets us to Jeevik Week.”

“Sounds good. I'm... really tired all of a sudden.” Joey's weight pressed onto him a bit more, and Xefros gently led her along.

“I'll bet... Don't worry, Joey. You can relax a bit for now. You've earned it.”

“Yeah...”

Xefros gave her a concerned look, but decided that getting them moving would be for the best for the moment.

He pulled open the entrance to the Indigo car, thankful to be in a place that smelled much more like a library, and much less like death.

“Oh, it's the two of you,” the boy among the group in the Indigo lounge said curtly. Galekh, he believed. “I'm surprised the two of you are back... at all. Not very often you see Lowbloods like you go up to the Highblood car and live to return and tell the tale.”

“Well, we did. But we're going back to our own car now,” Xefros replied. “So we won't be bothering any of you again.”

“Aw, that's too bad. I wanted to hear how Chahut was doing,” little Amisia whined. Xefros winced at the mention of her name. If he never heard that name again in his life, it would be far too soon. “Well, at least we won't have to deal with more Rusties dirtying up the carpet. You two can go, I guess.”

“Yeah. Thanks... Come on, Joey. Let's go.” Xefros stepped forward, leading Joey along behind him. Before he felt a sudden weight yank down on his arm and he gasped, turning to see Joey slumped to her knees on the floor, hand still loosely grasping his own. “Joey!!” He dropped beside her in an instant, letting go of her hand and putting both of his own to her face, trying to get her to look at him as gently as he could. “Joey! Joey, speak to me! Are you alright?!”  
“Huh?” Joey sounded a touch dazed, blinking half lidded eyes ever so slowly. “Oh, sorry, Xefros. I just feel... really tired... all of a...sudden...” Her head drifted forward, gradually descending, until finally her body relaxed and he felt her forehead dip against his shoulder.

“Joey!!” He tried to give her a gentle shake, but there was no budging. She was still breathing, he could tell that much. But the sudden collapse into his arms was sending his bloodpusher racing a mile a minute as he tried to process what was wrong. And his own painful lack of being able to do anything.

“Looks like the sister finally used up the last of her energy,” he heard the intimidating wrestler girl huff. “Pathetic if you compare her to the standards of those muscular theater participants who can go for nights on end in magnificent feats of battle against their opponents! But for a lowly Rustblood, I can't say I'm that surprised.”

“Oh yeah. That girl's been running back and forth the length of the train for the past hour or so,” Amisia piped up. “She said Chahut was having some fun with you, got herself into a real tizzy over it. But I guess she managed to do what she wanted. Because _you're_ still alive. Which is pretty surprising considering most other times Chahut gets bored of one plaything pretty quickly. So good for you she was so determined to keep them entertained, Rusty!”

Xefros felt his pusher thump hard in his chest as she looked at his alien friend. Poor Joey. She'd been running herself  _ragged_ , all to try and save  _him_ while he was facedown at the foot of a clown. And what had he done for her? Besides upset her by killing another clown. Nice going there, Tritoh.

With a determined grunt, Xefros carefully pulled her hood further over her head, just to be certain it wouldn't slip in front of the Indigos. Then he turned himself around and gently pulled at her arms, then hooked his hands up under her knees so he could lift her up against his back.

Joey deserved the rest, after all she'd gone through for his sake. And he'd give her all she needed if he could.

“We'll be off, then,” he managed a cursory acknowledgment to the Indigos, though didn't wait for a response. Then he headed for the elevator.

It took some finagling to try and activate the elevator with no hands, but he managed it in the end with a minor application of psychic power. Just enough to push in the button and bring it to them. He kept his back turned to the mosaic of the Heiress implanted into the interior wall.

Reaching the Cerulean floor was easy after that. Just a few seconds of letting it move them down. Until finally he was stepping back out into the more casual (though still pretty fancy by his own standards) Cerulean lobby.

He was determined to just get through as fast as possible, but someone jumping out in his path from one of the restaurant booths blocked his way.

“Holy fuck! What the hell happened to her!?” He recognized the voice, the Cerulean girl who had been flirting with Joey. Elwurd, he believed. He grunted, shifting Joey a bit more against his back.

“She's fine. Well, I mean, not _fine_.” Who would be, after all that had happened. “She's just exhausted, I think. It's been... kind of a long night for us.” He tried to keep the admission as vague as possible, not really knowing how well he could lie to a Cerulean if it came down to it. “And after everything with the Highbloods... She just really needs to rest.”

“Boy, I'll say. I'm surprised you're still in one piece, Rusty,” Elwurd commented. “The way she was running around like a cluckbeast with its head cut off, I was concerned she was going to flip when they eventually popped your head off your neck. But I guess her hard work paid off. Good for you her.”

“Uh... thanks,” he muttered. “Do you think you could maybe let us by now? I'd really just like to get her someplace she can rest.” Elwurd gave him a surprised look. Even Xefros was a touch shocked at himself, how he could talk so curtly to a Cerulean. Perhaps he was just too tired to care about the deadly social etiquette after all they'd been subjected to. He just wasn't intimidated by the thought of talking back to her.

Yet, she still stood in their way, looking like she was thinking on something.  
“Mmm... Know what? Nah. You two aren't going back there.”

“Excuse me?”

“I doubt the Rusty car is gonna be any sort of place for someone to get some sleep. Let alone after all she's been through. Come on. She can stay in my private bunk until she wakes up. Least then she'll get a decent rest.” Xefros opened his mouth to argue, but Elwurd had already strode on past him, casually walking toward the series of rooms. Before she turned to look back at him. “Oh relax. I'm not like Tick Bitch over there,” she shot a casual pointed thumb towards Ardata. “I actually _like_ Joey. I'm not gonna do anything to her. So are you gonna bring her or what?”

Xefros examined her face as best as he could, but he couldn't tell any kind of malice off of her. She'd helped them a couple of times, despite their earlier interactions with her. And she seemed to have taken an actual liking to Joey... He sighed, and followed her off. If nothing else, it would be good for Joey to be able to rest somewhere actually comfortable.

He was surprised to see that the private rooms didn't actually have recuperacoons. Just a flat horizontal sleeping plane with a thick quilt over the top. Elwurd must have noticed the expression on his face, because she rolled her eyes.

“I know, right? It's such bullshit that you only get an actual 'coon when you're Indigo. But these sopor horizontal planes do the trick when you need a travel nap. The quilt's got a layer of sopor in it, too. Plenty warm, though.” She rolled her shoulder. “Well, go ahead and get her settled, then.” She strolled away from the doorway, and Xefros found himself alone with Joey once more.

Ever so carefully, he slipped her off of his back and laid her down on the train bunk, removing her shoes and setting them on the floor beside the furnishing. Cautious so as not to bump her against anything or knock her horns loose. Then, he pulled the quilt over her, bringing it to rest up near her chin.

Maybe it was just him searching for any small relief in this turbulent sea of events of the past night or so, but he thought Joey looked a bit more relaxed when she was all settled.

Sighing, he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind himself. Though he found himself just standing there, staring at the blue toned thing as he pondered what to do next.

“Come on, Rusty. Give the girl some privacy!” Elwurd's voice rang out to him. He noticed her waving a hand her way and patting the seat. “Come on, take a seat, kid.” Xefros gave her a suspicious look, but Elwurd only shrugged at him. “Hey, either you come sit here, or you stand in the corner next to _her_ for the rest of the trip. Your choice.” He turned around, and realized Ardata was staring at him, a sinister smile upon her face. Yeah, no thanks. He quickly shuffled over to Elwurd and Remele's booth, sliding into the edge of it. “Smart choice. Betting that's why the cutie hangs around you, Rusty.”  
“Oh for goodnese sakes, Elwurd,” Remele chided from across the table. “Are you really so interested in that girle that you're _actually_ trying to get on her matesprits's goode side? Talke about moving faste.”

“Matesprit?” Elwurd asked with confusion. “I thought they were moirails.” Xefros felt his face flush a bit, and he tried to open his mouth, but before he could manage, Elwurd twisted around, facing her side of the artificial fire between the booths. “Hey, Mallek. What quadrant did you say you thought the Rusties were in? Flush or pale?”

“Huh?” Mallek sounded off. Xefros turned and saw him leaning around the side of the booth, staring right at him. “I said I thought they were matesprits earlier.”

“Damn, for real,” Elwurd muttered.

“I don't know. Some of their interactions just _reeked_ of pale,” Ardata piped up from the end of the car. “Why else would she run around the car for him like that if not for her moirail?”

“No one fucking asked _you_ , Tick Bitch,” Elwurd snarked.

“Bite me,” Ardata hissed.

“You fucking wish.” She whipped back to look at Xefros, looking him straight in the red face. “Well, which is it, Rusty? Flushed or pale?”

“I, well, um...” Xefros found himself stammering, completely caught off guard with this line of questioning. What was with these people and their assumptions of his and Joey in a quadrant. A whole day of people tossing “matesprit” and “moirail” labels at him, combined with some of his own current feelings, were _not_ helping his thought process in his adrenaline waning thinkpan get on track at _all_. “Well, see... The thing about is is... Not that there's a _specific_ think. But really...”

“ _Ahhh._ I get it,” Elwurd nodded, crossing her arms. “Well, sometimes you just vacillate between the reds, don't ya. It's whatever, I guess.” Elwurd leaned back against her seat, smoothing the lapel of her jean jacket. “If you two ever find yourself in whatever kind of swing in the moment, feel free to tell her I'm open, if she's legit interested when you two aren't in a certain way. I like the cut of her jib.”

“I'll uh... pass on the sentiment,” he replied noncommittally. He couldn't help but notice just how pleased Elwurd seemed by that sentiment.

Elwurd looked like she might say more, but suddenly the middle section of the table, where all the food popped up from, slid open, and a plate of something rose up out of the depths like some sort of sea monster breaking glassy water. From the unseen areas below, a plate of something that flooded Xefros's mouth with saliva arose. He couldn't even quite tell what it was. Some kind of finely seasoned and grilled meat with mashed ground tubers? Some kind of seasoning? With a tall glass of something fizzy and green and sweet looking topped with whipped cream beside it.

“The hell? Remele, did you just order this? I thought you hated that kind of meat.”

“Wasn't me,” Remele replied over the top of her sketchpad. 

“It was me,” Mallek piped up again, face still buried in his laptop.

“Remele and I both just ate,” Elwurd said flatly.

“Well it's not for either of you.” He motioned to Xefros with one finger. The other hand still typing away on the keyboard. “He and his indiscernible quadrant did me a huge favor getting my battery a charge. I figure I owe em at least one more favor. Eat up, guy.”

“I, um...” Xefros stared at the fine food on the table before him. This was clearly not meant to be Rustblood fare. He was certain if a Rusty like him even _looked_ at the menu this kind of food came from, he'd be culled on the spot were the proper authorities present. He couldn't help but look at the Ceruleans at the table, the only semblance of authority that were present.

Neither of them seemed to care altogether too much.

“Hey, eat or don't eat. We don't give a shit, Rusty,” Elwurd said casually as she smoothed down her hair to one side. “Not about to call the drones on our friend giving you food.”

Still nervous, Xefros slowly dragged the food and drink closer to himself, mind suddenly blank about what kind of cutlery was appropriate for the situation from his butler training. Though, at last he managed to figure out a knife and fork at minimum would work the best.

Gingerly, he cut a piece of meat (so tender the knife passed through like butter), and took a bite. Then another. And another.

By the time the Cerulean girls finally glanced back at him from a conversation they'd gotten themselves into, the plate was empty, and Xefros was slumped against the table, utterly asleep.

They decided to leave him, at least for the moment.


End file.
